


Strange How Hard it Rains Now

by prettylights_archivist



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-23
Updated: 2007-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylights_archivist/pseuds/prettylights_archivist
Summary: by severuslovesmeGrace stood next to Tahmoh under the tarp, waiting for the real rain to stop so they could return to simulated rain in the forest that was currently Caprica.





	Strange How Hard it Rains Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amathela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/gifts).



> Note from diana, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Pretty Lights](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Pretty_lights), which closed for financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Pretty Lights collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/prettylights/profile).

Grace stood next to Tahmoh under the tarp, waiting for the real rain to stop so they could return to simulated rain in the forest that was currently Caprica.  
  
She couldn’t feel him next to her through their flight suits, but she knew his skin would be warm. She shivered.  
  
The rain was drizzling down, not much but enough to halt shooting for fear of shorting out the cameras.  
  
Tricia was wrapped in a poncho and talking to Ron, leaning against a handy tree. Other crewmembers went about their business undeterred by the rain – checking lights, positioning covered cameras and fiddling with ropes and canvas.  
  
Amidst the commotion Grace and Tahmoh stood under their tarp, not talking, just watching the scene before them and occasionally catching one another’s eye. He knocked his hip against hers and shot her a sideways smile. Grace rolled her eyes and smiled back.  
  
The rain was creeping through their tarp now – it slid down her neck and into her flight suit, which was going to annoy Cindy from costuming. Grace felt the chill of it against her skin and shivered again.  
  
Tahmoh must have noticed her movement, because he slung one long arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him.  
  
“Cold?” He asked, eyebrows raised.  
  
“A little,” Grace replied. “I never knew summer could be so cold before I came to Vancouver.”  
  
He huffed a laugh at that and tightened his arm around her shoulder.  
  
This close to him she could tell that she had been right, earlier; he was impossibly warm. She rested her head on his shoulder, and slid her arm around his waist. The chill of the rain was receding now, a little.  
  
Eventually the dismal drizzle slowed to a sullen trickle every now and then, and Ron called for people to take their places again. Grace pulled away from Tahmoh with a small sigh and moved toward the roots of the tree that they were hiding behind in this scene. Tahmoh followed close behind her, and she imagined that she could still feel the warmth of him against her side.  
  
They sat close together at the base of the tree, talking softly while Ron and the cameramen talked about which angle would produce the best shot. He told her a funny story about his weekend and she reminded him about the party that Katee was having next Sunday night. They chatted about nothing and everything, sitting close together at the base of the tree.  
  
When Ron finally called action Grace slipped into Sharon’s skin with practiced ease – after a miniseries and a half a season as this character, the motions were becoming familiar.  
  
They watched Tricia through the trees, walking with the extras that would be turned into Centurions in postproduction. Grace shook the droplets of rain from her bangs and sidled a little closer to Tahmoh. Moments like these, it was easy to feel like she and Tahmoh really were Helo and Sharon – the only two people left alive.  
  
Then Ron yelled cut and suggested a new angle and the bubble burst, but Grace held the shards of that impossible reality close to her heart.  
  
They began the scene again, and Grace flowed into it but only with half of her mind. The other half was distracted. Helo was talking to Sharon, a whispered conversation about survival that was fraught with tension. But beneath that, buried too deep for anyone but her to see it, Tahmoh was talking to Grace. She shivered again.  
  
She felt him curl his fingers around hers and wondered if he was Helo or Tahmoh right then.  
  
They were filming the love scene that afternoon – at least if they managed to get back on schedule. Grace was torn between excited anticipation and nervous dread. Tahmoh just kept smiling. Finally she punched him in the shoulder and made a mock angry face, just to get him to stop shooting her that dopey grin.  
  
A while later they started the scene, after an extensive meeting about blocking. Grace blushed whenever she met Tahmoh’s eyes during that meeting. Ron arranged them on the sound stage that had been designed to look like the forest, as the crew watched with sly smiles on their faces.  
  
She thought of what she and Phil would have for dinner that night, if her black sweater needed to be taken to the dry cleaners, mundane things, all of them, but always underneath there was Tahmoh. Tahmoh, who was moving over her now, Tahmoh, whose face was so close to her own, always, always Tahmoh.  
  
End.


End file.
